Improvisational Faith

Teaching Music: a Metaphor

There are two basic ways to teach or learn music: by rote and by theory.

The rote method teaches the music student to repeat exactly the notes written on the page. These notes were (allegedly) written by a master musician. By repeating the notes exactly the student is making music. Later the music student is instructed in how to 'artfully' repeat the notes, with subtle shades of color (tempo, dynamics, etc.), to get the 'feel' of the piece. Only master musicians ever think of reinterpreting a piece of music, giving it their own 'feel.' Even fewer actually compose anything 'meaningful.'

The theory method starts with the concepts of chords, scales, time and key signatures. From some rudimentary basics, like the major I, IV, V7 (1, 4, 5seventh) chord pattern for a song, the pattern is first replicated in different keys, eventually adding the IVm (6minor), along with the rest of the basics of chord theory. Then perhaps the minor patters: Im, IVm, V7 (1minor, 4minor, 5seventh), with their variations. In scales one finds that the relative minor of a major scale, plays the same notes, but from a different starting point (as in the keys of C major and A minor). Further exploration of scales discovers the other more common of the less common scales: Dorian and Mixolydian. More complex aspects of music theory can be introduced, and built upon as the student continues to grow.

The first method prepares students to reproduce what someone else as created. The second prepares to the student to improvise with what someone else has created, and better prepares students to compose their own music.

Which of the two methods above (obviously oversimplified for the sake of illustration) is more like living the Christian life?

Repeat After Me

In my limited experience most religious training, most discipleship training, most Sunday school lessons, most sermons, most theological training, are patterned after the first type of musical training. It takes it's cue from the phrase "the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints" (Jude 3). With the emphasis on "once for all." "The faith" is basically something that doesn't change and isn't subject to change.

Despite the limitations I'll point out below, there are some tremendous advantages to this approach. First of all, it's much simpler! You may have noticed the difference in length between the two paragraphs on teaching music. That's reflective of the complexity of the second approach as compared to the first. A simpler approach is an easier way to get started, and certainly easier for the amateur teacher/discipler to follow.

And certainly there are unchanging, basic truths of the faith we must all know! These things must be at our finger-tips! Things like the truths summarized in the Apostles Creed:

I believe in God, the Father almighty,
      creator of heaven and earth.
I believe in Jesus Christ, his only Son, our Lord,
      who was conceived by the Holy Spirit
      and born of the virgin Mary.
      He suffered under Pontius Pilate,
      was crucified, died, and was buried;
      he descended to hell.
      The third day he rose again from the dead.
      He ascended to heaven
      and is seated at the right hand of God the Father almighty.
      From there he will come to judge the living and the dead.
I believe in the Holy Spirit,
      the holy catholic* church,
      the communion of saints,
      the forgiveness of sins,
      the resurrection of the body,
      and the life everlasting. Amen.

*that is, the true Christian church of all times and all places.
[Okay, there's one more issue here, Jesus didn't "descend into hell" after He died. He was in paradise with one of the thieves, as he promised (Luke 23:43). This is to be understood as a summary of his sufferings, not the next thing that happened after being buried.]

Like kids learning memorizing the "times tables," memorizing some basics is a great way to master important, unchanging truths, that don't require knowing all the theology behind it to live successfully in our daily lives. Believing in "the forgiveness of sins" for example, is essential to the Christian life: both that we are forgiven through Jesus, and we are supposed to forgive others.

The problem with this approach, is that it doesn't handle the unexpected very well. This approach can have a Christianity that works on paper, or within the confines of a church building, but life can throw some real curve balls, social trends and fly off in crazy ways, advances in medicine have created complex ethical dilemmas we have yet to fully solve. Simply asserting old answers doesn't fully address the new questions. But if all we have is 'rote' learning, all we have are memorized answers. In other words, the rote learning method doesn't teach us how to improvise (adjust to a changing world) within the boundaries of the Truth, and anything that isn't simple repetition can feel like a threat to "the faith...once for all entrusted to the saints."

I think that in many ways Evangelicals are having no impact on changing social trends because our "answers" are to questions no one is asking. Saying the same answers in a louder voice, just doesn't help, and makes us look like we are as out of touch as we often are.

Just Make it Up as We Go

On the far, flip side, and perhaps in reaction to the rote method is a bit of Christian craziness that tries to live without anything as settled and with nothing established "once for all." These folks jump on an out of context phrase of Scripture like a pack of hyenas on a stray sheep. They create entire theological structures out of something that was meant to say something completely different.

Two shining examples:
One uses this argument to suggest we don't need Bible study at all: "The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life" (2Cor. 3:6). Therefore, since we have the Spirit, we don't need the Scriptures. The word Scripture comes from "scribe" which means to write using letters. But the Bible says, "The letter kills," so we need to stay away from the Bible, and focus on the Spirit.

Here's another example, I heard from folks who were actually taught this at some point: If you don't speak in tongues, you're not saved. "If anyone does not have the Spirit of Christ, he does not belong to Christ" (Rom.8:9). Since the initial sign of having the Spirit is speaking in tongues (insert various 'proof texts' here), then if you don't speak in tongues, you don't have the Spirit and therefore do not belong to Christ.

The contrivances of such an approach become sometimes comical, sometimes pathetic and sometimes spiritually dangerous. Some of the extremes of Adventism (e.g. David Koresh) show some of what can happen, along with the bizarre case of Jim Jones, and some other lesser known, self-appointed apostles, prophets, etc. If you really want to read about something weird, check out the Adamites. I wonder if there are limits to the strange things people will do and still believe they're following Jesus.

There has been a lot of weirdness done in the name of "freedom in the Spirit." And let's face it, the Pentecostal movement has resulted in a great deal of weirdness (not to dismiss it's tremendous contributions). Some third-world Pentecostalism can hardly be called Christianity, and has in many places been just as susceptible to syncretism (blending of Christianity with 'traditional' religions), as some branches of Catholicism (Haiti, with which I have some acquaintance, comes to the foreground of my mind here).

I'm reminded of this quote, and would apply it to the Christian life in its entirety (not just the moral aspect of it): "Art, like morality, consists in drawing the line somewhere." - G.K. Chesterton. "Total freedom in the Spirit" is sometimes just another term for being stupid.

Improvisational Faith

If we put the freedom in the Spirit together with radical submission to the Word (the Bible), we have either a paradox, or a symbiosis. Those who hold tightly to the rote side of the equation are suspicious of improvisation and tend to consider it second-rate music. Those who hold to a freer approach to music, tend to view the accomplishments of 'rote-style' musicians as boring and uncreative.

It's my belief and experience that the coming together of these non-fraternal, but twin concepts is what will give a greater and fuller expression of what the Christian life is supposed to look like than either of them apart from each other. Imagine a church radically devoted to the Word, in-depth study of the Bible, wrestling carefully with a Biblical theology, at the same time completely devoted to following the guidance of the Spirit and ministering in His power in every moment--not willy-nilly, but in complete harmony with those Scriptures. 

This is like musical improvisation. The skills required for improvisation require a great deal of the knowledge and application of music theory. To create sounds that engage not only fellow musicians, but non-musicians requires a mastery that goes beyond mere rote learning. It's actually a higher standard, in my opinion (though I don't consider myself a master musician in either camp!).

When Jesus told the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30), the one person in the parable that gets thrown "into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth" (Matt. 25:30), is the one that gave back to the master exactly what he had been given. He took what was entrusted to him and carefully protected it, not risking it. He did so out of fear--specifically a fear of the Master. It was an act of utter faithlessness (actually it was belief in a god that doesn't exist!).

What we have been given "once for all" is supposed to be invested, used, put to work in this world. Doing so means risk, it requires creativity, and though it's not mentioned in the parable, the investment plan would benefit greatly under the guidance of the Spirit (cf. Gal.5:25--living by and keeping in step with the Spirit). The talents (truths) entrusted to us are many, not few, and should be invested, not hidden, stored, or locked away in thick, dusty books.

In music the confluence of a solid understanding of music theory, together with an inspiration in the moment can create something wonderful and amazing. In the Christian life, a solid understanding of Scriptures properly understood (good theology), together with the inspiration of the Holy Spirit can also create something wonderful and amazing. A well-trained musician doesn't think about the theory as he/she is improvising, it just comes out naturally because the theory has become a part of his/her musical self. In the same way, a person steeped in Scripture and Biblical theology, doesn't need to run through a check-list in the moment; these things have become a part of his/her ministering self.

Word and Spirit were always meant to be together. The Spirit that inspired the words of Scripture to be written, is the same Spirit that heals the sick, inspires prophetic words, gives dreams and vision, transforms lives, and more! To divide one from the other suggests a schizophrenia in the Spirit that does not exist, except in our minds. The fullness of the Spirit includes and embraces both parts of His ministry: the faith once for all entrusted to us  in His Word (Jude 3), and being led by the Spirit and keeping in step with Him today (Gal. 5:18, 25).

Both, my friends. Both.

Imagination and the Interpretation of Scripture

I've been preaching quite a bit of Old Testament narrative (the so-called "historical" material) lately and it's got me to thinking about honest and proper interpretation of this kind of Biblical literature.

Why Don't You Just Tell Me What You Want Me to Know?!

One of the things about narrative, the stories we find in Scripture, is that they don't always come right out and say why they're there. We don't get nice, neat lists of the seven things we need to grow in to live more faithfully (as in 2Peter 1:5-7). We get stories of people messing up, arguing with and complaining to God, wiping out entire towns, calling down fire from heaven, and sometimes seemingly just going about their lives.

Just Say "No" to Moralism

One approach to these stories is to reduce them all to moral lessons. So David and Daniel become model moral heroes, standing against the Goliaths of temptation, or against persecution for faithfulness. And it's not that we shouldn't be ready to kill the giants of temptation, or remain faithful no matter what, but as we read the stories, the point isn't to be more moral, the point is: God is at work among His people and that He is on the side of those who act in faithfulness in response to His faithfulness.

The moralism approach is such a temptation, especially for teaching children, because we want them to behave. We feel the same about the spiritually immature. If we can just get them to behave, we'll all feel better about things. And the meta-message of that approach is: Christianity is basically a religion of morality, and if we're moral, God will love us more (or at least other Christians will).

However, the message of the Gospel is not a series of lessons in morality designed to earn us God's favor. In the Gospel, while we were still sinners Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).

This isn't to say that there aren't moral lessons in Scripture. There certainly are! What I'm saying (and I'm not alone) is that when they come, they do not come as conditions for a relationship with God. They come as lessons in how to respond to God's faithful relationship He has already established with us.

A further consideration here is that many (though not all) of the moral heroes are also portrayed in Scripture as deeply flawed. David commits adultery and covers it up with murder. Abraham takes God's promise into his own hands and sleeps with his wife's servant (granted it was his wife's suggestion), and lies about being married to his wife Sarah--twice. And how in the world could Samson be anyone's moral hero (though being really, really strong is really, really cool)? Samson is so morally flawed, our theology of Divine empowerment--specifically whom God chooses to empower--needs to be adjusted to account for it! And Esther? She denies her Jewish identity in order to sleep with the king in some bizarre solution to the king's previous bad decision. Yes, she has her moment (a highly commendable and admirable moment!), but until that moment she is no moral hero and seems more of a moral coward (hey, I didn't write the book).

And yet, this approach is the primary approach to Scripture for many preachers, and a whole stack of children's Sunday School material. Appalling! This is not the Christian message!

Problems with the Christocentric Approach

One approach that is very appealing among Reformed (and some other) students of Scripture would seek to find foreshadows or "types" of Christ in every portion of Scripture. People who use this approach are very committed believers and often excellent preachers or teachers. I do not mean to impugn their character or commitment to God or His Word in any way. However, there's a problem: while Christ is the ultimate fulfillment of all the Old Testament points to, He is not the direct or even indirect object of every passage of Scripture. Sometimes the point is that without God, things go from bad to worse (which is my summary of the book of Judges).

I don't mean to say that we can't preach Christ every time we preach any Old Testament passage. I'm not disputing the importance of Christocentric preaching. I'm fully in favor of that!

What I'm talking about is making a Biblical character (for example) into a "type" of Christ, but then ignoring all the ways they're not. For example, Joseph is often depicted as a type of Christ, for the way that he rescues the people of God from certain doom. In that sense, he is, but in other important senses he is definitely not. Jesus does not test our loyalty withholding His true identity until He is satisfied we can be trusted (Genesis 42-44). Jesus does not enslave entire nations, nor participate in their exploitation by the rich and powerful (Genesis 47:13-25). Jesus, unlike Joseph, was in constant contact with His Father, while Joseph, even when he was second most powerful in Egypt, didn't even write home.

We can talk about "types" of Christ in the Old Testament, and we should, but not at the expense of ignoring how they fell far short of the Christ we know as Jesus. When we miss, or overlook the flaws, and the ways these "types" are sometimes "anti-types" of Christ, we dishonor both the Scriptures and the Christ they point to.

And characters aren't the only way folks try to find "types" of Christ in the Old Testament. Such "types" are found in laws and regulations, in the tabernacle/temple, in the feasts etc. I prefer to see these things not as "types" of Christ at all but prefer the way the book of Hebrews talks about them: "shadows." At their best, all of these rituals, festivals and practices are two-dimensional, substance-less substitutions for the real thing. They only tell us when we look at them, that we're not looking at the light that casts such a shadow. All of the interpretational analogies in the world that show the connection between the Old Testament temple practices and the Jesus of the New, in my experience fail beyond the point of being merely "very interesting." It's only if such errands help us understand Jesus better, that they are worth the effort. Like end-time charts they can be intricate in design and research and yet be no more transformative than watching reruns of Gilligan's Island.

Hopefully, I'm just preaching to the choir here.

Allegorical Oopses

Oddly, many of the early church fathers and certain parts of Pentecostalism both engage in a form of Scripture interpretation called "Allegorical." What is meant by that, is what we find in Tommy Tenny's book and film about Esther "One Night with the King" [sorry I'm not in the mood to find a link to either]. I'm not saying that the book, nor the movie are bad, nor that what they try to teach isn't right somehow. It's just not what the story of Esther is actually about.

The same could be said of the David and Goliath story. As an allegory it tells us how to confront our giants, or how Jesus defeated satan, or how the church must stand against the world. While it's true that we need to confront our "giants" and that Jesus did defeat satan (not with a sling, but with a cross), and that the church must stand against the world, the story of David and Goliath isn't about those things.

Allegories fail in the details. To allegorize Esther as the Church and King Xerxes (Ahasuerus) as Jesus, requires ignore some significant facts: Xerxes is depicted as a pompous, short-tempered, heavy drinker who is constantly making questionable decisions, and who even after choosing Esther, has nothing to do with her for weeks at a time. Esther, meanwhile, denies her identity to fit in, is characterized by compliance (until the moment of crisis), and uses a careful plan to force the king into a corner where he must act to undermine his previous plan. In other words, you have to leave out some of the most important stuff in the story to make the allegory work!

(I'll get to a better way to look at Esther below.)

Expository Limitations

Of all the approaches to Scripture, the one most championed in Reformed circles is the expository method. Expository interpretation looks to find all the text says without adding anything to it. It uses a method called exegesis (in contrast to eisegesis). Exegesis comes from two Greek words and means to "lead out," that is to begin with the text and lead out, what's already there without leading anything into it (eisegesis means "lead into"). It's a very useful method and one I use more than any other. It keeps me honest--or at least tries.

But I've discovered that this method is limited. In fact, it's sometimes so limited it can't tell us what we need to know. This is because the expository method, while it forces us to look at the text, doesn't help us look at the meta-message of the text. That is to say, sometimes the main message is not what's said, but what is implied but left unsaid.

Last week, as I've been preaching through the life of Joseph, I came to Genesis 47:13-31. God is not mentioned at all in that section of Scripture. The details of Joseph managing the famine on behalf of Pharaoh, resulting in the enslavement of an entire nation while Pharaoh gets obscenely wealthy, seems like more information than we need. It almost seems out of place (and a number of commentators believe it actually is!). Looking at the text from an expository point of view alone, I couldn't find the meaning or purpose of this passage. I know and believe that all Scripture is useful for instruction (2Timothy 3:16), but I couldn't find the usefulness of this passage using expository methods alone. The moralistic or allegorical methods came to mind (the Christocentric didn't at all--Jesus doesn't enslave people!), but those didn't help either. I thought a bit about the 20% tax as a forerunner of the 10% tithe, but there were too many problems with that idea, and it was quickly dismissed.

Expository interpretation can tell us what is in the text, but it can't always tell us why. Sometimes it can, but not always. It's very helpful in understanding the Epistles, not so much for narrative or poetic literature (like the Psalms). Sometimes we need more than seeing and understanding what's written. Expository studies give us information well, but don't always give us the transformation God intends for us to receive as we read His Word.

Like the scientific method, the expository method gives us facts, but doesn't always give us Truth.

Sometimes we need prayerful imagination along with exposition.

Prayerful Imagination

Let's take another look at Esther. The book of Esther is known by Bible students for the fact that it does not contain the word "God" in the entire book (nor prayer, worship, or any reference to the temple sacrificial system). This has led some to either reject the book, question its place in the Bible, or to simply refuse to preach on it. (Perhaps this same fact leads some to see the book as an allegory, rather than historical narrative!)

However, if we take the fact of the lack of the name of God in the book is a literary device, rather than evidence of the spurious nature of the book, the book begins to open up. What do I mean? I mean this. I believe we are suppose to read Esther asking this question: Where is God in this? As we read each of the many stories that make up the story of Esther, we can ask and should be asking this question. And as we ask it, the book opens up to remind us of one extremely important fact: God is always and everywhere working out His purposes (even if it doesn't look like it at the time).

In other words, our imagination can help us see beyond what's written to the meta-message that we are supposed to hear. The meta-message of Esther is that God is acting, even when it doesn't seem like it. The meta-message of Genesis 47:13-31 is that even while the world willingly enslaves itself to worldly powers in exchange for survival, God graciously rescues, provides for, and protects His people; or while worldly powers treat people like subjects to exploit, God treats them like family. I believe that's what we're supposed to see in that passage: the message that isn't there explicitly is the message we're supposed to hear most clearly.

That passage was locked for me until, through prayer and meditation on it, I began to see that unless God had acted with Joseph the way he had, all of Israel (Jacob) and his children would also have been enslaved to Pharaoh. Then I began to see the conditional 'blessing' of Pharaoh, compared to the gracious blessing of God. The contrast between how Pharaoh (a god to the Egyptians) treated his subjects in need and how God treated His becomes staggeringly obvious--once we see that this is the contrast of vv.13-25 with v.27. There is no mention of God in this text so that we will look to see where He is. In this text He's in Goshen with Israel, as He promised (Genesis 46:3-4).

I'm not recommending imagination for it's own sake, nor imagination apart from careful exegesis, nor imagination apart from yielded prayer. That would be utter foolishness. But I am trying to say that when we read Scripture carefully and honestly (which the expository method is most helpful with, IMHO), we must also use our imagination to contemplate what the unspoken message (if any!) of the passage may be.

Sometimes this is obvious. Sometimes, it takes a week's worth of praying.

Offering Our Physical Bodies to God

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. (Romans 12:1)  

I was singing a new song in my prayer time a couple of weeks ago, rededicating myself to God. I found a simple chord progression, containing a bit of tension & urgency and as I began to sing I wanted to sing about giving God my whole self: spirit, soul, & body. Here's what came out of my mouth: 

Here's my heart,
Here's my soul,
Here's my body;
Take it all.

Giving God our Bodies too

As I began to sing that song, something interesting began to happen to me. The first was that I found it strange to be offering my body to God in a worship song. Maybe I had done so before, but I didn't remember doing it. Secondly, I found it strange that I was finding this strange. It's not strange to offer God our hearts in song, or our souls, but our bodies?

I did a quick search of my song databases for "body" and "bodies" and though I found a few references to the fact that our bodies are God's temple, and will be raised on the last day (as well as references to the Church as the Body of Christ, and to Christ's body on the cross, or risen, etc.), I did not find a single song that gave voice to the command above: offering God our physical bodies.

Why is that, I wondered. Why are we quite free to offer God our hearts & souls, but then ignore offering Him our physical bodies? Are we latent anti-materialists (those who believe physical matter is evil), or Gnostics (some of whom believed the physical body was irrelevant)? Is there something in us that wants to hold at least something back from God, or assume that God isn't interested in anything besides our hearts?

What is going on here?!

The Resurrection of the Body (or not)?

When we say the Apostles Creed (that ancient summary of apostolic teaching), we say that we "believe in the resurrection of the body." I sometimes wonder whether people actually believe what they're saying. After all, the way they talk about heaven and the afterlife, it makes you wonder why God would even bother with raising our bodies. Our bodies don't seem to be necessary or even preferable to the life of a disembodied spirit in heaven.

I know that's not how the Bible talks about life after death, nor about what will happen when Christ returns. But it is how a lot of Christian folks talk. A few less sophisticated ones will just tell you that they don't believe that God is going to raise our physical bodies at all; He'll just give us new, spiritual bodies. That's not a Biblical idea, but it certainly fits their theology of the afterlife better.

But that isn't what the Bible says, is it. Here's the relevant quote:

So will it be with the resurrection of the dead. The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. If there is a natural body, there is also a spiritual body. (1Corinthians 15:42–44)  

The body that is buried is the one that will be raised. It is raised into a different sort of body than it was, but it is not discarded, left behind or forgotten. At the resurrection, these same bodies we're walking around in today, are the bodies that will be raised that last day. They will be transformed into spiritual bodies, but we don't get a different body.

When Jesus was raised from the dead on Easter Sunday. His transformed body was different than it was, but it was still His body--complete with scars and the ability to eat fish (Luke 24:36-43). Jesus even invited Thomas to examine his wounds and put his hand into His side (John 20:27). And yet, he could simply appear in a room (Luke 24:36), or vanish (Luke 24:31). The same, but different.

"The Misdeeds of the..." What?

I have sometimes puzzled over this verse in Romans 8:

For if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live. (Romans 8:13)  

What does Paul mean by "the misdeeds of the body (soma)?" Is this just another metaphor for whatever it is "flesh (sarx)" stands for in this passage? Or, is there a sin problem directly related to the physical bodies we have?

The Bible talks about us as having a spirit, soul and body. Yet for some reason we tend to assign sin only to the spirit and soul parts of us. I wonder why.

My body has desires. When it's hungry, it wants to eat. When it's thirsty it wants to drink. When it gets tired, it wants to sleep. From time to time, it wants sex. It doesn't always want what's best for it either. My body really likes potato chips. It seems to crave at least some things that aren't good for it, or good for the rest of me either! 

So can our bodies sin? Can they misbehave? Are our bodies actually capable of "misdeeds?" I know that many translations just have "deeds" here instead (Greek: "praxeis"), but the implication is the same in the context. Commentators want to skirt the issue of the physical body being anything but a neutral entity in their discussions, but Paul often contrasts body and spirit (as in the passage from 1Cor. 15 quoted above). I wonder whether we are reading our assumptions about the neutrality of the body into the text, thereby missing the possibility that our bodies, as well as our souls and spirits are fallen and need to submit to God. 

If we open that door: that our bodies as well as our spirits and souls need redemption, transformation and submission to God, then we can also begin to ponder whether Paul's use of the term "flesh" might mean something more than the sinful tendencies of our souls, or sinful attitudes, etc. Some passages more than others tend to lead me to leave that door open (e.g., Gal. 5:16; Eph. 2:3).

In 1Peter 2:11 we read that we are to (literally) "...abstain from fleshly desires which wage war against your soul." Most translations put "sinful" in place of "fleshly (Greek: sarkikos)," and we should acknowledge that to do so is an interpretation of what Peter means to convey. What if Peter is telling us something important about a spiritual battlefield we rarely think about? The world of Peter's day, as much and perhaps even more than the world in our day, encouraged indulging physical desires of all kinds (food, drink, sex, etc.). Consider with me for a moment that the ancient world (along with our own) is being pulled into sin not merely by corrupt souls & spirits, but by our physical bodies also damaged in a way that pulls it in sinful directions.

As I write this, I want to make clear that I'm pondering, not concluding.

"Offer Your Bodies as a Living Sacrifice"

Back to the verse quoted at the top of this blog entry:

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. (Romans 12:1)  

In spite of, or perhaps in addition to, Jesus teaching that God wants us to worship Him in spirit and in truth (John 4:23-24), Paul urges us to offer our bodies to God as an act of worship. It is interesting that Paul does this and that so few composers of worship hymns/songs pick up on it as significant.

When I began singing that song (above) to the Lord, offering Him my heart, soul and body, I found myself giving something I'd not consciously given before--at least not in that way. It was a curious and wonderful prayer & worship experience and it has changed the way I think about myself in relation to God. I'm not sure I intended to, but I think I had assumed that He didn't really want that part of me--the physical part.

Maybe you've seen the slogan: "We are not physical beings having a spiritual experience, we are spiritual beings having a physical experience." What that slogan does, is minimize the significance of the Biblical teaching that we are body, soul and spirit, not spirits merely inhabiting bodies. I don't just have a body, I am one. If my body hurts, I hurt. If it's sick, I'm sick. When it's hungry, I'm hungry (etc.). If you punch my body in the nose, you hurt me, not just my nose. Sexual assault doesn't just damage a body, it damages people. Physical abuse injures people, not just people's bodies. We are bodies and souls and spirits. This is an inescapable reality that slogans can't trump.

When we offer our bodies to our marriage partners, we engage in a deeply personal and intimate act of trust in relationship. The offering of our bodies is offering a significant part of who we are. As we make ourselves physically vulnerable to each other, we risk being more deeply loved, or more deeply hurt than we could be in most other human relationships. Our bodies are a significant and essential part of who we are. Offering our body to someone is not something we should take lightly, or do as if it's insignificant. This is no less true when offering our bodies to God.

If you have never done so, join me today in exploring how we can offer our physical bodies to God, in every way that would please God. Join me in resisting the temptations to indulge those physical desires that would move me away from God. Join me in worshiping God with my physical body: in my physical posture as I pray and worship, in my voice, in what my hands choose to do (or not do), in what I eat or drink (or don't), and in every other way I can submit my body to Him.

I'm wondering. I'm pondering. But I'm giving Him my all--including my physical being.

Besides, He lives in here--inside my body--anyway. Make it a home fit for Your glory, Lord.